“My God…” Luke took a step toward the creek, the fish making splashing noises as they surfaced. But with the next step he took, the water became blood once more. He turned savagely to Jeremiah. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
“You will never drink again.”
Luke’s heart clenched, but he wouldn’t let Jeremiah know it. He’d never felt fear so deep and cutting, as if he couldn’t draw breath without forcing himself to think of it consciously. He was exhausted, and all he could think of was a long, cool drink.
“Look, I-I tried to go for the doc, but I turned my ankle. I couldn’t make it on into town—”
“Liar. You didn’t go for Doc Myers. You let me bleed to death with Shadow, there on the ground.”
“No! Honest—”
“But you are not honest. And we both know it.” Jeremiah’s tone was matter-of-fact. They stood looking at one another for a few seconds, hatred and fear rippling through Luke. But Jeremiah wore a look of expectation of the inevitable, and Luke’s fear turned to bone-melting terror.
In a desperate effort to regain the upper hand, Luke bent to gather his scattered belongings, making a show of organizing them in order to collect his thoughts.
“Mama—” Luke said after a moment. “What’s become of her?”
Jeremiah studied him coldly. “After Shadow died, I passed, too. Shadow was waiting for me. But as we journeyed in the spirit world, a cry came to me on the wind…such a cry as you’ve never heard.” He glanced toward the river of blood, watching it for a few seconds.
“It was...our mother. She couldn’t live, after what you had done. You killed an innocent animal, who’d done nothing but be loyal and faithful his whole life. You killed me, your younger brother, who wanted nothing more than your love and approval.” He turned to meet Luke’s wide eyes.
“But the worst thing was, you killed our mother as surely as if you’d shot her, too. Her heart died, to see you as you truly were. Jealous, vindictive, and vicious.”
Luke stood speechless, looking at Jeremiah, knowing he spoke the truth. “What happened?” he croaked, his throat parched by this time.
“Oh, Lucas…” Jeremiah shook his head with the barest hint of regret. “Why do you think the river runs red?”
****
“I didn’t do it!” Luke said, starting back toward the road. Was Jeremiah still there? There was no answer to his bold declaration. Resolutely, he put one foot in front of the other, heading for Salvation, two miles away.
Thoughts of seeing Shadow in his gun sights, recognizing him, pulling the trigger anyway—then Jeremiah running— That had surely been an accident. Even in Shadow’s death, Luke felt not much more than a trace of responsibility. Hadn’t Jeremiah—and, yes, even their mother—driven him to do what he’d done? His place in the family as the rule-maker for Jeremiah had been threatened. If Jeremiah had been a better brother, none of this would have happened, he told himself. None of it.
“That’s always been your problem,” Jeremiah said placidly.
Luke whirled to face him, but he wasn’t there. It was only then Luke realized his brother’s voice had come from inside his own head.
“You damn coward!” he shouted to the empty woods. “Where are you?”
In the next instant, Jeremiah stood beside him, so close Luke could have felt his breath on his cheek, if a ghost had breath in his body. Jeremiah’s eyes were blazing with an unholy light that made Luke take an involuntary step backward.
That brought a slow, taunting smile to Jeremiah’s lips.
“Remind me again, brother, who shot a gentle animal for no reason but a spiteful spirit? Remind me, how, when our mother begged you to go for the doctor as I lay dying, you gathered your possessions and took time to destroy mine. You never intended to go for help. It was then that she realized what kind of man she had raised; then, that her heart began to die.
“When she knew that I had gone to the other side—and no, there wouldn’t have been time to fetch the doctor, even had you tried—she realized she’d lost everything. That’s when she held me close to her for the last time.
“Her heart was pounding so hard, Luke. Like a bird in a cage trying to beat its way to freedom from the pain and sorrow.” Jeremiah stopped and looked away as the memories washed over him.
Luke didn’t want to hear any more. Jeremiah raised his head to meet Luke’s eyes again. The chill that seized Luke was not just a figment of his mind; it was physical as well. He shivered in the sunlight, his thirst forgotten for the briefest moment in the wake of his fear.
“But why tell you about it?” Jeremiah asked, his voice silky and thoughtful. “Why not let you see it for yourself, since you ran away and missed it.”
Quickly, he stretched his arm out and touched Luke’s forehead with two fingers. Lightning seemed to shoot through Luke’s body, searing him from the inside. He screamed as he fell to the ground in a boneless heap. Jeremiah’s soft chuckle enveloped him.
“Now, you can see it all.”
At first, Luke didn’t understand what his brother was talking about. He could do nothing but lie on the ground, feeling sick at his stomach, a blinding headache overcoming him to the point that he felt he’d not be able to ever again open his eyes to the light of day.
But keeping his eyes shut was not the answer. When Jeremiah had touched him, he’d done something that Luke couldn’t understand fully, but he was beginning to realize that a terrible change had occurred within him in the blink of an eye.
He noticed an image in the red-black shelter of his shuttered eyelids. As it came clear, he realized he was looking at a familiar scene…Jeremiah’s crumpled body atop that of his beloved dog, their mother on her knees beside her fallen son and his life’s best friend.
As Luke watched, he saw himself walking away, then the look of utter despair come into his mother’s eyes. She leaned over to kiss Jeremiah’s forehead, her fingers lingering tenderly in his hair, just as his still lay upon Shadow’s in death. Finally, she rose and began to walk toward the rushing river behind their house. She moved as if she were sleepwalking in the night; as if she didn’t know what she was about to do…
But, Luke could see, she did know. She walked right into the water with all of her clothes on, scrubbing her son’s blood from her hands with meticulous purpose as she began to sink into the water. She made no attempt to swim or save herself.
Luke tried to stop watching, but found he could not open his eyes. And even as his mother disappeared into the water completely, he still concocted excuses and justifications for what he had brought down upon his family.
When he’d seen everything, he opened his eyes very slowly. Jeremiah was gone. The sun beat down mercilessly on him, and he felt sick. He glanced toward the creek, tempted to try again to get a drink before he set off for town.
He got to his feet very carefully and managed to walk to the creek bank. But just as he dropped to his knees, close to the water, a feeling of trepidation spread over him. He looked around, half-expecting to see Jeremiah, but he was alone. He plunged his hands into the water, fighting back the wave of nausea. With trembling palms cupped, he brought the water to his lips, but the bile rose swiftly, and he turned his head to retch into the grass beside him.
He crawled back away from the creek, suddenly awash in a sheen of sweat. Gathering his pack and his rifle, he started toward the little town of Salvation again, but after only a few stumbling steps, he couldn’t carry the things he’d brought. Up ahead, a large elm tree offered shelter under its branches for him to lay his pack and rifle until he could come back for them.
As he set them down, he felt an odd sense of leaving the place for the last time. Foreboding closed in. “I’ll be back,” he muttered, but he couldn’t stop himself from opening the pack and taking out the sheaf of drawings Jeremiah had done.
He studied them, one by one, until he came to the one of Shadow with the eyes that seemed to accuse him, no matter how he turned the paper. The dog loo
ked larger than it had the last time he’d looked at the drawing…and, if possible…even more realistic.
He folded it hastily and started to cram it back in the pack. Something stopped him, and instead, he shoved the paper into his pants pocket.
He’d be fine once he got to town among people. He’d go to Doc Myers’s first thing…But, he couldn’t. The old doc would look at him with accusing eyes of his own, like Shadow’s, and ask why he was only just now coming into town?
Old Man Jackson’s words echoed in his head as he took several unsteady steps toward the road. How had he known what had happened? Jeremiah, damn his soul, must have been spreading lies about him to everyone. But Jeremiah was dead.
“I’m not dead, brother.” Jeremiah’s voice came from the trees, the dirt, the sky, echoing around him, then throbbing with the pounding of Luke’s head.
“Yes, you are!” Luke tried to run, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. He fell in a tangled heap in the road, covering his head.
“I’ll be with you forever, Luke. Forever. Forever…”
If he could just get to town. He managed to push himself up, his feet sluggish, and doggedly started for town again. It couldn’t be much further—no more than a mile…
“You are a demon,” he muttered, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. He hadn’t expected to see Jeremiah, but there he was, following only a few paces behind.
“Go away!” Luke whirled, then bent to pick up a few good-sized rocks, throwing one at Jeremiah’s head. He knew it was childish, and he wished he hadn’t left the rifle behind. If he had it, he’d shoot Jeremiah a second time, ghost or no.
The rock he’d thrown fell to the ground in front of Jeremiah, who only smiled at Luke’s frustrated anger.
“Getting thirstier, aren’t you, Luke?”
Luke shook his fist. “I’ll get a drink in town! Stay away from me!”
“Don’t be afraid. I have no intention of laying a finger on you, dear brother.”
“Son of a bitch!” Luke screamed. “Leave me alone!”
But Jeremiah shook his dark head. “No, I’m afraid we are going to be together for a very, very long time.”
Luke whirled around, turning his back to Jeremiah and walking, resolutely putting one foot in front of the other. He had to get to town. He suddenly wondered if anyone else would be able to see Jeremiah.
“Not unless I wish for them to,” Jeremiah said quietly from beside him.
Luke jumped, startled. He hadn’t felt Jeremiah there so close to him.
Jeremiah gave him a slow grin. “Maybe you’re losing your mind,” he suggested.
Luke shook his head, wiping the sweat from his face. “No. No, I ain’t goin’ crazy.”
Jeremiah lifted a dark brow. “Could be anything. There’s…lots of ways—”
“I ain’t crazy! Do you hear me, you little bastard?”
Jeremiah chuckled. “I hear you. And anybody in the next mile around can hear you, too.” His eyes narrowed in warning. “I believe you are crazy. And just plain cruel. There’ll be no help for you in Salvation.” His voice was flat, certain; and that added to Luke’s worry… But he didn’t reply. How could he argue with a ghost? What sense did it make? He wiped the sweat out of his eyes and forced himself to start moving. He tried to ignore the silent movements of his half-brother, walking so close to him down this dirt road.
“Why are you here?” Luke’s voice sounded desperate and pleading to his own ears. He glanced at Jeremiah, who walked on in silence for a moment before he answered.
“To serve as a reminder to you, Luke. Until the day you die.” His face was set grimly. “And, afterward.”
“Leave me be! Do you hear?” Luke’s mouth was dry, and nausea flooded through him, thick and violent so that he almost fell to his knees. But instead, he turned away to be sick and stayed on his feet, barely.
“You’re still so filled with hatred there’s no room for remorse or sorrow,” Jeremiah stated.
“For you?” Luke spat. “I’m not the least bit sorry you’re gone. I-I regret Mama—”
“Regret?” Jeremiah shot at him.
“I can’t argue any more, Jeremiah. I’m—so thirsty.”
But when Luke turned to face Jeremiah, he was gone. Luke stood alone in the middle of the road, the town of Salvation barely visible in the distance. He wiped his blurry eyes again and started forward.
****
“Here comes that Marshall boy, Ellis.” Lucinda Moore laid aside the bolt of cloth she’d been matching thread for in the mercantile she and Ellis owned.
Through the front window, she could see Luke coming down the street with the unsteady gait of a man who’d had too much to drink the night before. He stumbled, managing to grab a hitching rail in front of Abe’s Saloon and hold on tightly.
Ellis Moore came to stand beside his wife, looking out at Luke Marshall as well. Ellis narrowed his eyes, then they widened as Luke looked around the town, as if it were unfamiliar to him.
“Lucy, turn the sign. We’re closed. At least, for the time being.”
“But—”
“Just do it. Don’t let that boy in, no matter what.” Ellis shut the door and locked it tight, making his way around the store, checking all the doors and windows to be sure they were secure.
“Ellis, what’s going on, dear?”
Ellis came back to Lucinda’s side and they watched as Luke finally let go of the itching rail and slowly started forward again.
“That boy,” Ellis said grimly, “has the look of a mad dog—like he’s got…the hydrophobe. We don’t want to take any chances. Not until we know what’s wrong with him.”
“You best go warn the sheriff.”
Ellis nodded, making for the back door. “Come lock the door, and stay out of sight.”
****
Luke’s world turned and tilted, swaying as he did. He couldn’t stand on his own. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Damn you, Jeremiah…Damn you…You did this to me, you damn half-breed bastard. You did this!” Nearly as strong as his desperation, anger washed over him. “Look what you’ve stolen from me!”
Jeremiah chuckled mirthlessly from beside him. But when Luke whirled to look at him, he was gone.
“Show yourself!” he yelled down the empty street.
The last of the townspeople who were on the boardwalks hurried into nearby doorways as he staggered forward, holding to hitching rails as he went.
“You damned…half-breed…” Luke’s voice was thinner now. He would have sold his soul for a drink of cold water, yet, at the same time, the memory of the blood he’d dipped from the creek rose up in his mind, making him want to retch again.
“Show yourself, you damned Indian bastard!”
But through Jeremiah’s laughter echoed in Luke’s ears he remained invisible, leaving Luke to scream his utter frustration down the now-vacant streets of Salvation.
****
“He’s headed this way, Sheriff,” Ellis Moore said hurriedly. “That Marshall boy. Comin’ down the street just as crazy as a bedbug. Yellin’ out all kinds of wild things—can’t hardly stand up—”
Sheriff Ben Wolf pushed his chair back from his desk and stood up. “Well, Ellis, you go on back to the store and Lucinda and I’ll see to it. I need to question him about his brother’s death; we just brought back his mother’s body, too, from downstream where Paddy Michaels found her.”
“No!” Shock pinched Ellis’s face, the blood draining.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you’d heard.” The sheriff reached calmly for his Henry and checked the chamber matter-of-factly. “Mrs. Marshall drowned.” His fingers tightened momentarily on the gun, then relaxed again. “Her son, Jeremiah, was found shot, along with his dog. Looked like he tried to save the dog—same bullet got both of them. As for Elizabeth—uh, Mrs. Marshall—we don’t know if it was accidental or if this—animal—killed his mother.” He started for the door.
“You believe Luke Marshall kill
ed his family…” Ellis could scarce believe it.
Before the sheriff could answer, the door banged open. Doc Myers quickly closed it behind him.
“Ben, you know what’s going on out there?”
“Ellis came to tell me.”
The doctor shook his head. “He’s got it bad.”
“What’s that, Doc?”
“Either he’s got hydrophobia or he’s a stark raving mad lunatic.”
Ben shot him a sharp look. “Hydrophobia? You’re sure?”
“Can’t be anything else. Way he’s walking, raving like he’s –talking to your—uh, to Jeremiah…” There was a moment’s hesitation in is voice. He cleared his throat. “It’s like he thinks Jeremiah’s with him. Doesn’t realize he’s –uh…gone.”
Ben Wolf gave the doctor a long look. “I didn’t do right by Elizabeth or Jeremiah. I can’t do it over—it’s too late. I know he’s ‘gone,’ Doc. You can say ‘dead.’ Now, I’ve got a job to do—if you’ll get out of my way.”
The doctor stepped aside slowly, then touched Ben’s shoulder as he opened the door. “Be right in your heart, Ben. Don’t do this for revenge.”
Ben didn’t reply for a moment. He looked out into the empty street. “Animals with the hydrophobe gotta be put down. You want to try to cure him?”
Doc Myers shook his head reluctantly. “There’s nothing I can do for him. You know that.”
“I thought not. I’ll go put him out of his misery, same as I’d do for a mad dog with rabies. You two stay put.”
****
Luke hung draped across one of the hitching posts. The world looked upside down. In fact, it was moving all around him, but he knew he was holding still. There was no way he could move—the damn hitching rail was cutting him in two.
But if he tried to unwrap himself, everything would come undone, and he’d probably end up face down in the dusty street.
“Lucas Marshall!”
Sheriff Ben Wolf’s voice cut through Luke’s befuddled thoughts.
Ben Wolf. Sheriff. Half-breed. Jeremiah. Indian. Ben Wolf.
Luke decided he better unroll himself from the wood rail. He managed to slide down to where his butt hit the ground and he sat, leaning against the pole that held the hitching rail in place.
Dark Trail Rising: Four Tales of the Old West Page 10
